


The Blood of Angry Men

by ClaraAlong



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, French Revolution, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Love Triangles, Paris Uprising 1832, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, rated M for mild marxism, references to SA not graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraAlong/pseuds/ClaraAlong
Summary: The people of Paris are hungry for change. A republican revolutionary group made up of students called the Les Amis l'ABC awaits anxiously as pressure swells for the coming rebellion. Meanwhile, Paris' most vulnerable are fighting just to stay alive amidst extreme poverty. Enjolras, a wealthy student and leader of l'ABC, is not only idealistic in his republican ideals but will sacrifice anything for the revolution and his only mistress, France. Éponine however, a once spoiled and wealthy young girl has grown up only to fall to poverty. Living on the streets of Paris, she scrounges to survive the only way she knows how: crime. Enjolras is not often impressed or intimidated by anyone, let alone women, but after meeting Éponine he is challenged like never before. Can this man, handsome and charming,  though "very capable of being terrible" finally come to grasp the dark reality of his future, or will his blind faith to the rebellion remain unwavering?My first AO3 fanfiction! Hope you like it please let me know if you have any suggestions or i need to update tags :)
Relationships: Enjolras & Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras - Relationship, Enjolras/Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5
Collections: Les Miserables





	1. Chapter I: Les Misérables Vivent Ici

Just as the dawn allowed the sun to creep out over Paris, gray clouds of mist blanketed the skies with militant haste– blocking out each ray of warmth with precision. From his third-floor apartment window, Enjolras could see that rain, though distant, was inevitable.

He finished scrawling out the final pamphlet in a stack that he had begun at four that morning. His wrist ached as he dotted the last sentence and returned the quill to its ink. All the pain would be worth it, he thought, whatever it takes to destroy an absolute monarchy. Enjolras walked to the water closet and washed his hands in the basin, scrubbing the black ink that stuck like tar to his skin.

The mirror before him was large and expensive, but dirty with one large crack cascading down into smaller branches. However, it was functional enough for Enjolras to still admire his perfect teeth and charming good looks. His vanity was Enjolras' only insecurity. And it wasn't hard to see why. Enjolras' light blue eyes sparkled like the clear waters of a running mountain spring. His golden blonde hair fell just above his broad shoulders, not by choice but from neglect, and his hair curled into soft healthy ringlets that were envied by all. He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh feeling exhausted though the day had just begun. Admiring himself he flashed a cheeky smile at the reflection in the cracked mirror before him. "Still got it!" he chuckled to himself as though to assure himself this was a joke, however, he was entirely serious.

He then returned to his desk and neatly stacked his manifesto pamphlets then wrapped them tightly with a red silk ribbon from the desk drawer. He grabbed his bright red yet shabby waistcoat and stuffed the pamphlets in his right breast pocket. Enjolras then headed out his front door and down the stairs to the streets of Paris.

Enjolras gagged when entering the cobblestone streets. Despite living in Paris his entire life he was still not used to lingering smell the densest areas of the city harbored. The putrid smell of the city streets had only gotten worse in the past three years, however recently it had become unbearable. Enjolras covered his nose in disgust and ran down the street. The cobblestones of the street were riddled with mud and human waste that had yet to be washed away. No wonder the illness was spreading Enjolras thought to himself, these conditions are inhumane. As Enjolras turned the corner he passed the gravedigger collecting decomposing bodies that had been left in the street all night. Likely the culprit to the unbearable stench throughout the neighborhood. Enjolras pulled the collar of his white cotton shirt to his face only to unsuccessfully block the scent. Head down, he ran as fast as he could to escape the disgusting scene.

His long stride carried him quickly through the deserted streets, it was still too early for most of the wealthy artists that lived in this neighborhood to be out. Enjolras picked up his pace leaping throughout the street in a strange contorted yet graceful dance. Graceful as it could be until in his haste he barreled into a small girl.

Instant embarrassment hit Enjolras with the same force as the initial blow of their bodies crashing together. Both of them toppled instantly to the cold hard cobblestone. Enjolras examined himself, his jacket was covered in mud, and god knows what else. Otherwise, he seemed much better than the poor woman he collided with. He tried to assess the damage as he raised himself off from on top of her in a pushup motion. She on the other hand had appeared to have crumbled beneath him lying face down on the ground. He only had a scraped knee and elbow, but—was she all right? Quickly changing from his position to kneeling before he offered his hand to her and asked, "Are you hurt?"

"Is that some kind of apology?" She snapped whipping her head around to look at him. Her face was dirty and her brown hair was wet and stringy. Her pink plump lips were chapped and had shrunk from dehydration. Her dark hazel eyes were beautiful, although continuous lack of sleep had caused purple bags to form beneath them making her look older than she was.

"I was about to give you a proper one, I needed to see if you were all right first," Enjolras protested, taken aback by the response though not entirely undeserved. "Your hands! They're hurt!"He exclaimed.

"I'm fine" The woman responded. But she was genuinely hurt, and Enjolras could see this. Her hands were completely raw from the pavement and her chin had a large scrape that would definitely bruise if not scar.

"Can I please help you? I live around the corner. Can I give you a place to clean up? I think it's the least I can do," He said. Looking far too obviously at her clothes. It was clear to him she was a peasant. He knew the moment he said it, however, that she was offended.

"I have my own home where I can clean myself up," she said curtly.

"Yes.. right. I'm sorry to have assumed anything, I..." He trailed off because there was nothing more to say. Though Enjolras had spent much of his adult life fighting to improve the lives of the poor, he the only child of a wealthy family hadn't had a terrible amount of interaction with actual poor people discussing what their actual lives are like. Being confronted with the distinct inequality between his life and the peasants of Paris he often felt shame, pity, and embarrassment for the privileges he had and always would have.

"You what?" she snarked back.

"Nothing. Just—I apologize for running you down and hope you're okay" Enjolras replied hiding that he was becoming annoyed with her tone towards him. "If you're sure you don't want my help, I can leave you alone."

"That is all I could ask for at this point," she replied. While she glared Enjolras once again extended his hand. This time she took it, cautiously, but discarding it like trash as soon as she regained her footing. She stumbled a bit wobbling on her ankle. Enjolras extended his right side supporting her with his large frame. Once his arm rested on the middle of her back he realized how truly small she was. She couldn't be taller than 5'3" but she was incredibly thin. Her shoulder blades poked out like small wings on either side of her back. Her face was gaunt as if she hadn't had a full meal in years. Her arms were tiny, nearly skeletal. The exhaustion of her face and her frail body did her natural beauty no favors. She had the build of a young girl and the worn features of a much older woman. Both 15 and 55 wrapped up into one young adult.

"Could I walk you to your house? You seem a bit unstable," he said earnestly. She did not take it earnestly.

"No!," She smacked his extended left hand simultaneously breaking free from his right supporting on her back. She stumbled off, going down the street and around the corner into a nearby alley. And with that, she was gone as quickly as she appeared.

"What on earth just happened?" he mumble to himself. Muddy, embarrassed, and perplexed Enjolras slumped to Le Café Musain where he spent most of his free time.

Café Musain had an upper level that served as Les Amis de l'ABC clubhouse. There Enjolras spent most of his time with friends and fellow revolutionaries debating philosophy and entertaining plans of revolution. Enjolras prayed the café would as empty as the streets. He attempted to head to the back room with the washbasin immediately when entering the side door of the café, only to be forced to a halt by the handsome drunkard himself Grantaire.

"Why do you smell like pig shit?" Grantaire slurred with a smirk. "You're usually so 'hygienic,'" ending the sentiment with a bellowing laugh.

"Just back away Grantaire," Enjolras said rolling of his eyes and pushing lightly on Grantaire's chest for emphasis. "I swear to you I was clean earlier this morning." An annoyed chuckled escaped his lip but he was already close to losing his short temper. Pushing harder past Grantaire, Enjolras walked past towards the water closet in the back of the café.

Grantaire fell back into his chair as casually as if this were a dance the two had arranged. He sat assumed sipping his drink chuckling to himself. "If only I had a friend just like you but different in nearly every way. The things we could do, he and I," Grantaire said with a drunk silly smile that faded to somber.

"You're so drunk. Calm down, I'll lighten up in a few moments after I move on from my horrible early start." Enjolras shut the water closet door loudly. He removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his linen blouse. His shirt was billowy and white, the collar cut a deep v across his chest revealing a small peak of both blonde chest hair and muscular pectorals. The sleeves were loose around his muscular arms but could snap with buttons on his wrists or elbows for functionality. Enjolras washed the minor wounds he received in the fall. Grantaire was right about one thing he was usually extremely hygienic, especially now that a plague of cholera that had been ravaging Europe all year had finally reached Paris.

There's a woman next door to the café who could wash his clothes while he worked, he thought, but what clothes would he wear while she did that? Perhaps she would let him borrow something. 

Enjolras cleaned his face and stared at himself in the mirror. Not to admire himself as he had this morning but instead to ponder. He worried about the girl he trampled earlier. She seemed to be weak as it was without him literally crashing into her. He felt awful not only for running into her but also putting his foot in his mouth. He had never been good at speaking to women, or men for that matter. He could be incredibly charming when he wanted to be, but rarely did the motivation come. The opinion of others just wasn't something he often spent time thinking about. Many women had expressed interest in him over the years though he hardly even noticed they were even advances.

He was nearly twenty-six and his family was desperate for him to marry to create another heir. An heir that would actually utilize his family's wealth to its full advantage. Unfortunately for his parents, Enjolras had no interest in marriage or even love. He had never even kissed another before, and though that may bother some, Enjolras saw no issue. He saw his devotion to revolution running deeper than others who distracted themselves with short and pointless love affairs.

Enjolras sauntered out of the café to the laundress next door. "Madame De Lessivé, could you wash my clothes for me while I work in the café, please? I will also need to borrow some clothing if possible." She looked at him with a glare. She did not have a strong opinion of l'ABC and interpreted them as a group of drunks and a noise nuisance in her neighborhood.

"It will cost you extra," she responded making clear her inconvenience. 

"Naturally! I can't thank you enough!" Enjolras replied with a smile. Nothing was free in Paris that was for sure. He reached into his waistcoat's inner pocket for his coin purse to pay the women the fee and a hefty tip.

When all of the sudden panic rushed to his face. He noticed his pocket was empty. With a quick panicked search, Enjolras knew all his pockets were empty. Not only was most of his money gone but his great grand father's pocket watch and the wrapped stack of pamphlets he had spent the whole morning working on. "Where on earth did his things go?" He thought. The panic was settling in and his hand began to shake with anger, sadness, shock? He couldn't place the feeling exactly even if he tried. 

That's when he realized the girl, he had underestimated her. She was not weak at all, in fact, she was a thief, and he was her victim!


	2. Chapter II: The Boy in the Manger

Éponine crossed in and out of alleys, weaving over and under scaffolding of buildings. These renovations were an attempt to improve the artistic district and encourage wealthy students to drive out the so called "undesirables" like Éponine and her family. Instead this only provided more opportunities for hiding from and escaping police. Not only that but Éponine no longer had to travel far from her home to actually make a day's living stealing from unsuspecting wealthy folks.

It was a good thing too. In her scheme to rob the prancing handsome man she had badly hurt her ankle. It was beginning to swell and she had to limp along the alleys using railings for support. 

The smell of death became slightly masked by the smell of salt and fish, Éponine knew she was likely close to her brother Gavroche. She ducked under a low archway that led to courtyard where the residents kept their laundry lines and livestock. Éponine approached a small disheveled pen found him asleep in a large pile of hay next to a cow and her baby. 

"Gavroche!" She called softly. He stirred awake quickly. Years of sleeping on the streets had forced him to sleep lightly. 

"You spooked me," He cried extremely annoyed. 

"Yes, but I have gifts," she exclaimed and held up the stolen coin purse. It was regal and too extravagant for the average man. It was made of dark purple velvet and had cold trim and purse strings that held it together. "It feels heavy," she said tossing the bag up, making a large clanging sound as it landed back in her hand. 

"That's reasonable enough, I s'pose," Gavroche grumbled as he climbed from the hay bale he had slept in. "Give it err." 

Éponine tossed to him though he could hardly count any higher than she could. Éponine and Gavroche never had any formal education. In fact, Gavroche living on the streets away from their parents had gained more skills in reading and math than Éponine had staying with their parents. Of course, Gavroche struggled, he was often sleeping in a cow pen, but he had managed to make a better life for himself on the street than he could ever have with the Thénardier's. Gavroche hated their parents and preferred living as the leader to a gang of street urchins to being under the control of Thénardier. Éponine managed to always help him out when she could, but she knew if she ever came home with too little her father would beat her senseless. However judging by the weight of the stolen purse today this wouldn't be a problem, in fact she may be done for the day already and she wasn't even trying.

Gavroche spilled the contents on the bag unto the cobblestone ground. His face quickly changed from excitement to shock and then fear. Gavroche scooped each coin up as fast as he could then glance around paranoid. "A'igher than I count. But its a lot" He said with a large toothy smile.

"I know! I lucked out," Éponine chuckled. 

"Where did you find an idiot who carries this much on him at once?" Gavroche asked weighing the purse in his hand and playing with the ornate gold pursestrings.

"He literally ran into me, though I did spot him coming from a mile away. I saw the opportunity and took it. I didn't think it would be this good though." Éponine laughed remembering how idiotic the man looked as he pranced through the streets.

"Are your hands okay?" Gavroche grabbed her hands, examining her palms. They were still filthy, dark blood had begun to dry. 

"I'll be fine, I just to wash them." Éponine walked to the water pump in the courtyard and began washing herself best she could. She winced in pain but the dirt and blood was finally wiped away. She scrubbed her face and attempted to clean off her clothes without soaking herself. Maybe today she could finally get her clothes laundered. "All right, let's divide it up now." 

"I don't want much, okay! I don't need the pity, just enough to get by," Gavroche protested. Éponine laughed. Gavroche was fiercely independent, as he needed to be. Éponine roughly measured out a third of the coins in the purse and handed them to Gavroche. She knew he wouldn't dare ask for that much even though it would allow him relative safety for nearly a year. His eye widened. "That's too much"He cried though he was ecstatic. 

"It's not you will need it, I want you to be safe though. Do not lose it to someone like me" She assured him. She still didn't know how to balance her loyalty to her family and her brother. She resented their parent's abandonment of their only son after they had lost all their money an the Inn. However Éponine still couldn't shake the loyalties she built to her father and mother when they were better off. She had changed so much since then and yet was still the same girl in so many ways. She still held on to her old beliefs of hard work, materialism, and vanity. But this once spoiled child had grown up to become a poor and bitter envious woman. She often watched the rich ladies riding in their carriages dressed in lace and fancy ribbons. She remembered how as child she wore those pretty dresses and yearned to one day to return to her higher class status. 

"I have something I need you to do for me" She said.

"What's that" Gavroche popped his head up from counting his coins into his humble burlap coin sack. 

She grabbed the the pocket watch and parchment bundle from her ratted brown wool jacket pocket a tossed them towards Gavroche. Gavroche caught the pocket watch and let the parchement fall to the cobblestone in front of where he was kneeling. "I need you to find out how much this is worth. But don't sell it, not yet." 

"This looks real" Gavroche said. He examined the engraved gold of the pocket watch. Patterns swirled around the sides and on the cover in the center an extremely detailed engraved rose with a large cross in down the center. With a snap he opened the watch. Inside the cover was a name. Gavorche couldn't read too well but he recognized a name engrave on the inside, Victor Enjolras Something the Great. Gavroche let out a bellowing laugh. "The great" he chuckled to himself. He knew an Enjolras but he wouldn't refer to that man as 'the great'. "Where on earth did you find this?"

"I told you, some idiot on the street. Extremely full of himself," said Éponine. Gavroche shrugged sounded like Enjolras. He picked up the pamphlets and examined them. He recognized a few words such as, "Cafe Musain" and "France". Again sounded even more like Enjolras. 

"Interesting..." Gavroche trailed off. He'd see how to would proceed as the day went on. He'd likely see Enjolras today at the cafe anyways. 

"Just figure out how much it's worth okay?" Éponine fumbled shoving the stolen velvet purse back in her shabby jacket. "I'll see you later, but promise me you'll eat well today." 

"I promise! Thank you for the help, sister! I'll be sleeping in the old blind women's pantry tonight. I think she figured out I'm there but doesn't mind. That or she thinks I am the cat keeping out the mice. Come by and whistle twice for me!" 

Éponine kissed Gavroche's dirty forehead and hobbled down the street. Her ankle burned and she could barely walk any longer. She gripped a scaffolding railing and cried out in pain. She rubbed her ankle attempting to see what was ailing it. It did not seem broken, but she definitely couldn't walk on it much longer. Luckily the one room apartment she shared with her family wasn't much further. After another block of limping Éponine collapsed at her door unable to open it. She sat on the front stoop rubbing her ankle some more. Reaching above her she knocked on the door hoping someone would answer. 

Of course no one was home. Éponine sat defeated and in extreme pain. She couldn't go anywhere and would likely have to wait until someone had returned to help. Either that or gather the strength to climb up again and turn the key. She didn't know if she could do it at least not after the last few block she had hobbled. 

As Éponine weighed her options before her, her thoughts were stopped in their tracks. A beautiful man had exited the apartment next door. Those apartments were far more luxurious than the near slum her family inhabited. The newly renovated apartment building's white marble contrasted laughably against the decaying wood of the apartment that Éponine and her family had been slumming in.

His dark brown hair curled down to shag around his ears. He handsome eyes shined so that even from a distance Éponine could see they were green darkened only by thick black eyelashes. His pale skin was speckled in light orange freckles. Éponine waved and beamed a smile at him as he walked past. He stopped gave her a confused look as if to make sure he didn't know her. And returned an awkward smile back. His teeth were excellent. Éponine swooned with envy and lust all at once. But before she could get another look at him he was gone. 

It wasn't much longer before Éponine realized no one would come for her anytime soon. It was only nine, judging by the sun in the sky, and her parents would be gone all day scrounging for coins, not knowing that Éponine had found enough for everyone to eat like kings for a month. 

But would telling them that be the best choice? Éponine thought to herself. She could simply give them he expected share for the day, they would be impressed with that alone. Then she could save the rest for herself, either for an escape one day or something special just for her. Éponine didn't ever seriously consider running away, but she had day dreamed of getting her own apartment and providing for herself. To do that she'd have to get job in a factory which would be very hard but not impossible. 

Gathering her strength Éponine hoisted herself up and fumbled for the keys to her house. Turning the door she managed to pry it open and hobbled through landing on a straw mattress she shared with her younger sister. 

Finally she could safely nap the day away. Free from the responsibilities of her abusive parents. Free to dream of the handsome boy she had seen today.


	3. Chapter III: Victor Enjolras Géredard the Great

Enjolras spat with violent fury at the ground. 

"Come on let me buy you a drink, you'll feel better in no time," Grantaire said to Enjolras with a pat on the back. 

"It's not even nine in the morning" Enjolras snarked with judgement. 

"Yes but I cannot drink alone now can I?" Grantaire relaxed back in his chair letting the words intended to hurt run over him like water

"You did it all last night and the through the weekend. What? Is another hour too hard?" Enjolras intensified his efforts to hurt Grantaire. Grantaire again, did not let him succeed.

Grantaire leaned in closer towards Enjolras, close enough that he could smell the ale on his tongue. "Ahh yes but you're so pleasant the few times you indulge me," Grantaire flitted his eyelashes. Enjolras leaned back in his chair with a smirk. He was fed up with Grantaire's antics but knew being angry with him was infantile. He was not the reason for Enjolras's problems nor could Enjolras remain mad at him for long, despite Grantaire's talent for pissing him off. The clever girl was the only one to blame for his situation now. 

How did she manage to pull it off anyways? Enjolras' things were scattered throughout his different coat pockets and yet she managed to empty each one during their short interaction without him noticing a single thing. In fact when he grabbed her waist he specifically remembered her not even touching him? How on earth did she manage this? That crafty little minx! 

If Enjolras had not been out 300 hundred francs he would have been impressed, even congratulatory. However he had been carrying the large sum of money on him in order to stock up on supplies for l'ABC. Enjolras had never been a working man, he was an idea man. However those ideas hardly paid the bills and though he'd never admit it to anyone Enjolras often found himself looking to his wealthy family for support. 

Little did his family know whatever leftover money Enjolras did have he would save for supplies for a coming revolution. If his bourgeoisie family ever truly understood that Enjolras' one passion in life would ultimately include their very downfall, he would be instantly cut off. Enjolras had no idea what they would do if they knew how they were indirectly funding the revolution through helping him. 

Enjolras banged his right fist hard on the table. Too hard he thought. So hard the empty mugs of ale Grantaire had downed earlier clamored to the ground. So hard that he thought his hand might be badly injured. "Stupid idiot" he mumbled to himself quietly attempting to stifle his pain. Ashamed by his stupidity of holding 300 francs at one, ashamed by his carelessness of underestimating the thieves of Paris, and extremely ashamed that his temper had caused him to scream at his only friend and then injured his dominant hand. Enjolras's temper was volatile but the worst damage was always to himself. He winced in pain examining his hand beneath the table. All good but a bruise would definitely form at the base of his fist.

"If you want to help me, Grantaire, you can spot me the coin to get my clothes cleaned." Enjolras said a little kinder now.

"I cannot, no money you see!" Grantaire shook out his empty purse with a laugh.

Enjolras sighed with a shake of his head. "And how were you planning on buying me a drink then?" Enjolras snapped.

"My good nature and rapport with the owner!" Grantaire laughed. One maiden in the bar was in love with him the Café owner's daughter, but other than that the entire staff saw Grantaire like an insect stuck to their shoe, unable to wipe off. Grantaire would often swindle free drinks or never pay his tab, but still managed to come back the next day to be served again. It was Grantaire's pride and joy to flirt his way into a free drink. Even if Majoriné, the owner's daughter, was no beauty Grantaire would gladly use his beauty and charm to stay in her good graces. 

Grantaire was once admired by a whole gaggle of ladies. Grantaire was handsome, classically so. Like Enjolras he had a strong chin and sharp cheekbones, but instead of Enjolras' greek like nose Grantaire's crooked in the center from breaks through the drunken years. His crooked hooked nose gave him character which he only used to advance his charm. Grantaire had beautiful eyes too and when sober they would light up every room with their green shine and specks of brown. But years of trauma had led to years of alcoholism, however Grantaire never seemed jaded to the others allowing drink to smooth his sharp edges. Those years of wear had changed Grantaire's face from young and bright to haggard and lost. 

The café door opened in waltzed a young boy no older than eleven. Enjolras greeted his young friend, Gavroche, the street boy. Gavroche grinned at him assessing the mud that was still very much caked on Enjolras's clothes. 

"What happened to you?" laughed the boy.

Enjolras shot a playful glare, though he was becoming genuinely annoyed by the lack of compassion he had received by his friends. "I fell this morning. Some street wench knocked me over to rob me," Enjolras said slightly embarrassed. 

"I knew it was you!" Gavroche plopped himself in a nearby chair and grabbed a swig from Grantaire's ale. Gavroche then signaled to the waitress to order and got himself the largest plate on the menu, something that surprised Enjolras. 

"What on earth do you know about this?!?" exclaimed Enjolras. 

"It don't matter your'a money's gone but let it be a lesson and a good one at t'at" Gavroche wriggled the mug of ale from Grantaire's grasp to grab another large gulp. 

"What do you mean gone? Do you know who that girl was who robbed me? You have to tell me. You don't understand Gavroche. That money was for l'ABC to defend itself, now we will be months behind our schedule." Enjolras began raising his stern voice even louder.

"I ain't a snitch, so quit askin'. But I'll take pity on yah today only," Gavroche smirked glad to have control over the older men he looked up to. Gavroche pulled out the gold pocket watch and handed it to Enjolras with an exaggerated bow. "Here you are, Monsieur Enjolras the Great," Gavroche said mockingly. 

Enjolras was furious Gavroche wouldn't help him recover his coin. But he had to admit had he been in Gavroche's position he likely wouldn't have even returned the watch. Enjolras knew that Gavroche could greatly improve his life pawning the watch and he knew the sacrifice he had made returning it to him.

"I appreciate this Gavroche, you don't know what this mean to have it returned to me. Although it's Monsieur Enjolras the III to you," He said mocking himself now. "Enjolras the great was my great grandfather. He was a powerful revolutionary during the first rebellion of France. I wish to follow in his footsteps." 

"Aye, I saw the sentimental value instantly. Even an urchin like me can have a heart." Gavroche punched Enjolras's arm lightly, confident from his large gulps of ale. "I'm just warning you quit letting those younger than yah from taking advantage. You're looking weak," he bellowed out a boyish laugh. Gavroche's large plate of potatoes, meats, and parsnips arrived. He began eating ferociously as it was his first real meal in ages. 

Enjolras huffed back in his seat knowing it would be selfish to pry more on the lost money. It's not like getting more from his parents would be terribly hard, just utterly embarrassing. But it wasn't more shameful than demanding the desperately needed francs his thief had clearly shared with Gavroche. Or even bothering the police about such matters.

Enjolras would rather loose all his money than face the police, those class traitors. His hatred for the police boiled, common men worse off than even he, fighting to maintain the monarchial order that oppressed them and kept their families' and communities' struggling. No, going to the police would only punish the girl far harsher than deserved and Gavroche was right anyways Enjolras had been taught a valuable lesson. Never get distracted by pretty girls.

Enjolras rose from his seat with a sigh, knowing his day had already been ruined he simply wished to return home where he could run a bath, change, and visit the woman in his building that did his laundry. "Well I clearly need to get back to work then," Enjolras said. "Tell the club I will not return until at least evening. I have lost much of my work." Enjolras was incredibly frustrated, he had spent all morning working on those pamphlets and in an instant they were gone. 

"Oi ya shit! Are these yours?" Gavroche said his mouth full, using the vocabulary he had picked up from the men themselves as if it would impress them. With a clumsy flourish Gavroche handed Enjolras his pamphlets back. 

Relieved Enjolras thanked Gavroche. "Well this will definitely save my time. Maybe then I can return sooner. However Grantaire I know you'll likely be right here where I left you in six hours," Enjolras teased. Grantaire attempted to protest but was distracted as he once again had to fight off Gavroche from stealing another sip of ale from his glass. And with that Enjolras left the café without saying goodbye. 

*******

Éponine was happy, truly happy for the first since she was child. She looked down at her dress. It was a light blue made from satin and covered in bows. Her hair was clean, untangled, and pinned up like how Éponine had seen the high class ladies wear their hair. Cleaned up and pampered her beauty was undeniable as she sat atop an elegant ottoman in grandiose park. Before her splayed out on the softest linen picnic blanket were of the finest pastries, spirits, fruits, and meats money could buy. Inferior versions Éponine had only tried on very few special occasions since her parent's bankruptcy. 

Éponine breathed in the sweet smelling air through her nose. No sewage smell plagued the city any longer. All she could smell was the fresh food before her a soft cologne of the man next to her.

It was the man from neighboring apartments that Éponine had been so taken by in such an instance. Now in the daylight of her fantasies she reimagined the handsome stranger even more beautiful than the truth. His eyes a little more striking, his hair a little more black, his teeth a little less crooked, his face little more symmetrical, his build a little larger. 

Together in that park they drank spirits and chatted away. The dark haired stranger leaned in close to Éponine and she found herself blushing to his sweet nothings that danced on her earlobes with hot breathe. Éponine's pulse quick-end. A hot burning sensation begin boiling in her belly tingling down to her legs as the handsome stranger turned to stare at her with his mesmerizing green eyes. He surprised her slightly by grabbing the nape of neck with his strong hands pulling her into his body, she surrendered happily to his touch. Unfamiliar chills ran through her body as the stranger pulled her into him. Slowly he leaned in for what Éponine's lips so desperately craved. 

Éponine heard a loud commotion and the handsome stranger yelled "Éponine?! Éponine?" 

Éponine awoke to her younger sister shaking her and calling her name loudly. The most pleasant dream, ruined by harsh reality. Éponine was still in her filthy home, in a filthy dress, with a filthy family and a swollen ankle. Azelma, Éponine's younger sister, had also remember the days when their family was a part of the bourgeoisie. Like Éponine, Azelma desperately wished to return to those days but knew she would likely die a peasant on the streets. 

Again like Éponine, Azelma saw the bankruptcy as a moral failing of her parent's particularly her father. His laziness and stupidity had caused their downfall, not the monarchy. Azelma or Éponine had no interest in destroying monarchies or revolution, in fact if given the opportunity they would likely do anything to become high class again. Even if it meant sacrificing morality, by now they had both felt they had suffered enough for an entire lifetime, what had morality ever done to improve anyone's station or quality of life? Certainly wasn't occurring in Paris. 

"'Ponine, why are you sleeping? You're going to get us both beat being lazy like that," she whispered with fear in her voice. Éponine rubbed her little sister's back, it was emaciated and bony like hers, she smiled at Azelma. 

"It will be okay dear sister, I found a true fool today and found my share before breakfast," Éponine said proudly still lying under the thin covers. She did not mention the extra money she planned to stash. If Éponine were to ever runaway she would of course bring her sister, but she knew that her sister being only fifteen would likely spill her secret before she could finalize the plans thus ruining everything. It was better if Éponine handled it herself. Éponine was nineteen, nearly twenty, and though she had always been independent she had no idea if she could manage living in Paris on her own. This was very much mans world and even when wandering streets she had known for half her life she often found herself terrified of the men she would encounter in the streets. 

These men often would mistake her for a prostitute, and if she wasn't careful when rejecting them some would beat her or attempt much worse. Éponine had always managed to make it out relatively unharmed as long as she had her guard up and her fists ready. Men often would approach Éponine begging for gratification Éponine would sometimes accept only to find ways of robbing the men blind before completing the solicited tasks. Éponine couldn't bring herself to actually sell her body for money. Her former bourgeoisie status had given her an unearned air of superiority and she looked down on women that sold their bodies for money. Lying to herself that drugging men to rob them was instead a superior moral alternative. In addition, Éponine was terrified of the pox and diseases ladies of night would complain of. Rejection of the practice, though as desperate for money as she was, was Éponine's last cling to her sense of self and control over her body.

Éponine rose from the bed careful not put weight on her swollen ankle. She straightened her filthy clothes as she climb up from the straw bed. Éponine only had one proper dress that she wore only for special occasions. Daily she often only wore a thin shift that loosely hung down her breasts cinched tightly at the waist by a dirty and tattered brown skirt that revealed glances as far up as her knees from tears. Around her waist she had wrapped thin white cloth that had turned light brown from dirt. This was in attempt to accentuate what little form she had, almost like a make shift corset. Making her waist appear absolutely tiny while giving her breasts some support and making them look slightly large than they were. Her body without it was rather boyish and made her extremely insecure. 

Years of malnourishment had not only caused her pain, hallucinations, and dreams haunting the sweet relief from death, hunger had robbed her of the womanly body Éponine so desperately wanted. Instead Éponine barely survived the transition of adolescence to adulthood. Éponine's body was more focused on surviving once puberty hit, and even at nineteen her body had only had the strength to bleed three times in her life.

"What happened to your ankle 'Ponine?" Azelma cried in shock at the sight of the swollen ankle. It was now the size of a potato and hurt just as much as before. Prehaps with Azelma's help Éponine could make it to a doctor, but Azelma would never believe Éponine could afford it without asking questions. Éponine felt stupid for putting on brave face for her little brother Gavroche earlier, she desperately needed his loyalty now. 

"I hurt it working. That's why I came home to rest," Éponine replied nervously. 

"What will we do 'Ponine? You won't walk right for days," Azelma was more worried for their father's reaction than Éponine's health but that Éponine's priority as well. 

Éponine tossed Azelma five francs. "Go grab ice and if you can try and see if there's any merchants selling opium, but the ice is essential!" 

Azelma grabbed her coat wished Éponine goodbye and walked out the door. Éponine did need ice for her foot, but more importantly she needed to find a good hiding spot for the rest of her money before Azelma got back. Éponine did a quick scan of the room. Using all her strength and one ankle she lifted the straw mattress from the floor. Beneath the head of the bed a panel in the wall had begun to wriggle free. Éponine pried the panel off the wall placing her stolen purse behind it. Then replacing the panel and then the bed, it was completely unnoticeable. 

Satisfied with herself Éponine began undressing she grabbed a frock of her mother's. It was grey and ratty but it would do for now. Éponine was finally going to pamper herself and have clothes sent out to be laundered. Éponine smiled to herself. Her life had never been this blessed before, for once she began to wonder if God no longer wished to punish her, if he was ready to welcome her back to the blessings he took from her so quickly. For once Éponine had a reason to be hopeful for the future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO I really didn't want this to sound like I am bashing sex workers bc I'm 100% not. I love adult consensual sex workers, they are amazing people! And it's 100% necessary work! Because it would be extremely common for girl like Éponine to become a prostitute during this time I wanted to find reason why she might reject it (since she is not a prostitute in the book). I wanted to also show the hypocrisy she has with this attitude of thinking she is better than women who are prostitutes because she will occasionally drug or/and rob men (wether they deserve it or not).   
> Also like prostitution during this time had such little safety considering lack of access to healthcare and condoms and the book talks about this so that's kinda what I was talking about.  
>  ANYWAYS Hope you guy are enjoying so far feel free to give comments of kudos whatever you feel! Hope everyone is having a great day!


	4. Chapter IV: Un Enjolras Sobre

CW: Gross men being gross but not graphic, also fighting 

"The fuck you still asleep for!" Éponine jolted awake. She sprang to her feet quickly forgetting about her swollen ankle. A sharp pain reminded her suddenly and she fell to the hard cold ground with a crumble. "Get up you lazy girl! You've wasted the whole day, quit actin' like a princess." Her mother spat at Éponine as she lay at her feet. 

Éponine must've slept longer than expected. She looked around the room with panic. Her sister had given her milk of the poppy, that was the last thing that she remembered. She looked down at her clothes. Her sister had dressed her shift, it looked clean for the first time. Next to the bed sat a small pile of folded laundry. Éponine examined her ankle. Azelma must've wrapped it in a linen cloth for her while she was sleeping, how kind she was, Éponine thought. The swelling had gone down but it was still rather painful to put weight on it. Éponine turned to her younger sister, who sat huddled terrified in the corner, a red mark across her cheek. Éponine's heart sank. "Azelma how long was I asleep..I'm so," she trailed off as their mother interrupted. 

"At least a day and a half I oughta bet. I caught you're sister here trying to get youse clothes washed. Who do you think you are wasting money on that and then sleeping a full day? You're nothing but a brat!" 

Éponine used her arm to lift herself off the floor a hobbled to a ratty red cloth arm chair near the dying hearth. Éponine reached behind her head a grabbed her jacket hanging above and reached into the pocket retrieving a portion of the stash she had stolen from the tall blonde stranger. Her mother hastily snatched it from her.

"What's this you've got?" She sounded excited, forgetting that she had just screamed at Éponine. 

"It's my keep, enough for the whole week at least. I feel that I have the right to sleep and for once have clean clothes since as I did injure myself caring for your family." Éponine pointed to her swollen ankle glaring back at her mother. Her mother rushed to her feet, kneeling before and yanked her sprained ankle hard. Éponine yelped back in pain. 

"Oh my poor baby!" Her mother rubbed her ankle with exaggerated sympathy as she tried to win back her daughter's favor. Éponine looked at her mother in pure confusion. Madame Thénardier, Éponine's mother had once looked quite a bit like Azelma, but much older. Her face was wrinkled, her hair had large patches of grey and white that danced throughout her ratty ginger hair. Her eyebrow were merely a few loose long strands of white hair framing her eyes, to combat this she took dark kohl drawing two exaggerated curves giving her a permanently shocked expression. Éponine shared the same nose as her mother and her sister. Slender, petite and small, that sloped down like the hills in the valleys. Azelma and thier mother shared the same eyes though, emerald green that glistened in sunlight. Though their mother's youth and light had faded significantly from her eye through years of turmoil and sadness. 

"I'm fine! Leave me be! That includes yelling at me or Azelma!" Éponine shouted at her mother. Her mother backed away cowering in fear. 

"You cannot speak to me this way, just because you got lucky with some sailor," Her mother screamed back in Éponine's face. Éponine felt her hot smelly breath in her face. It curled her nose in disgust. She desperately wished for the courage to spit in her face, give her a taste of her medicine, but she knew it would be no use. Father would be home soon and not even money would not get her out from under his wrath. She dug her nail into palms in a fist and swallowed hard staring at her feet. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes but she fought them with all her might. Éponine just kept staring at her feet occasionally blinking trying to let the sadness wash over her with no effect, like a study boulder in a rapid river.

Éponine felt helpless, she couldn't help sister and she couldn't help her brother. Her parents refused to respect her or even care for her, and despite all this she was still the one managing to bring home the most money nearly every week. She desperately wished she could run away today, tell her mother off and take Azelma far from here. All in good time she thought to herself. That was the only thing that could stop her from crying. The dream that soon they would all be together and they would all be safe. 

"APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY!" Her mother screamed at her once again getting right in her face. Éponine kept looking down at her feet refusing to let her mother make her cry. 

"I apologize." She said feeling as meek as ever. Her mother stumbled away counting the francs Éponine had given to her. 

Azelma rushed over to Éponine. Éponine kissed her red cheek gently and hugged her sister, still trying to remain strong and not let her sister see her cry. Azelma brought over a large stick with handle, a small crutch. Éponine had seen many beggars both ones who needed it and those who didn't using them on the streets. "Where did you get this little fox?" She cooed Azelma's nickname. She was called so for her auburn curls and ability to walk without making a sound. Éponine remembered playing hide and seek with Azelma in their giant house when they were spoiled children. Finding new hiding places everyday in their family's inn. Azelma would cheat whenever Éponine was close to finding her by tip toeing around to a new hiding spot without anyone noticing. 

"You know me, I snuck around back into the doctor's storage. Now you can get around a little easier, and who knows, maybe you'll make a few extra francs begging with it!" Azelma grinned triumphantly and Éponine beamed back with pride.

"Thank you, sister! You always take such good care of me, when I should be the one caring for you," Éponine replied attempting to hide the shame that she had not been able to protect her sister from their parent's temper in the past. She prayed soon that would all change. 

Azelma helped her sister get up from her chair using the crutch. Éponine then dressed herself in her brown skirt and makeshift corset. Éponine grabbed a hat and jacket to help keep herself warm. She then walked out the door of the single bedroom. She hobbled to her sister gave her quick kiss goodbye and then without saying anything to her mother in the adjacent kitchen she left on her single crutch for both fresh air and to see how long she had truly been asleep for. It was nearly evening of next day she realized in shock how much time had passed. No wonder her mother was so angry with her, she thought, somehow Azelma must've covered for her at some point allowing her the sleep she desperately needed. 

It was late April and the nights will still rather cold and dreary, especially as the factories turned in for night and the last plumes of smoke blocked out the remaining glimmers of sunlight. The smog burned Éponine's eyes, she hated the city and longed to return to the countryside where she lived as child, though she knew it would never be. The city was the only true place to find quick cash, no matter the scheme. 

Éponine's stomach growled loudly. Now she had another problem, she was starving. Not eating for day and a half will do that to a person. She desperately did not want to turn to ask her mother for food, not after their last interaction. No, she thought, if I can make it to a nearby cafe I can buy an actual meal. She checked her pocket and realized all her money was still in the house either with her mother or beneath the floor boards safely waiting for later. There's no way Éponine would risk digging it out while her mother was home, she'd rather starve. 

Perhaps Gavroche would take pity on her, as she was his main source of income. Éponine decided she would hobble through the streets and attempt to find her brother for free meal. It wasn't often that she asked him for help in return, but she knew once she told him of her plan to find them all a home, he'd be far more inclined. 

Éponine repositioned her crutch straightened her hat with determination and hobbled on her way to look for Gavroche in this large dangerous city.

Éponine wandered the streets aimlessly. It had been hours and she still had not found Gavroche. Still starving and still limping on her single crutch Éponine continued to hobbled down another alley to the last hiding spot she though Gavroche might be. Night had settled in long ago and it was nearly midnight. Éponine started thinking she would probably have better luck sneaking back into the apartment and stealing leftovers without waking her parents than finding Gavroche at this point.

After another unsuccessful attempt at finding Gavroche, Éponine finally started the long walk back to her parent's house. The crescent moon was high in the sky and though if was a starless night there was enough light to guide her long trek back.

She was only about ten blocks from her house before she reached the docks. Some prostitutes were finishing up their night, very few just beginning. Men both wealthy and poor; soldiers, police, and sailors all had flocked to meet the ladies of the night. Éponine kept her head down hoping her limp and lack of eye contact would deter the men from approaching her. But to her dismay one spotted her, and before long began following her.

"How much for you? Fille mince, I want you." The man's words made her feel sick to her stomach. Éponine just kept walking. Maybe her would let up and leave her alone after a couple blocks.

But the man did not. He continued to follow her down several blocks. Éponine continued to hobble on her crutch as fast as she possibly could. Her arm supporting her weight was burning but she knew better than to slow down and let the man catch her. 

"I won't hurt you, I just want to talk!" The man had picked up his pace and was on her heels at this point. Éponine knew she couldn't outrun him. She looked to her left and then her right. She saw an opportunity to escape through an alley she grabbed her crutch in both hands and sprinted on both feet into an alley on the left. She was free, that was until her sprained ankle betrayed her once again. She lost her footing on the uneven cobblestone street and in a quick foul swoop the man had caught up to her and pinned her to the hard stone wall. 

********

Enjolras sat arms crossed at the crowded table the sound of mugs smashing together in celebration bellowed throughout the cafe, yet Enjolras managed to tune it out in his sulky mood. Enjolras had spent the last day in a state over his lost income. He had yet to find a solution to the new budgetary issues facing l'ABC and he was dreading the thought of asking his parent's after his last interaction with his father over a year ago. 

The boys of l'ABC were 'celebrating' as they called it though Enjolras had no idea why. Nothing of importance had occurred in their fight for revolution and he felt many of them were just searching for reason to drink rather than improve the beloved nation. 

Enjolras excused himself wordlessly, he walked down to the ground level of the cafe and exited the french double doors. Out there sitting on the steps with his head between his legs was Gavroche looking green as can be. Enjolras chuckled. The boy had tried once again to act like the men and failed miserably. Enjolras popped back in the cafe only to grab a water from the waitress and give it Gavroche. 

"Are you feeling all right, Gavroche?" Enjolras said lightly rubbing his back. He knew Gavroche liked to be treated as a man but he was still only a lad, and Enjolras couldn't help but have empathy for the young boy who tried so desperately to grow up too quickly. He could understand having to grow up before one is truly ready, despite Enjolras having a very different background than the young boy. Why he couldn't be much older than his youngest sister. Enjolras shrugged off the thought of his family, again not wishing to remember the painful memories of his past.

"Ayyyy." He cried but stopped there unable to continue the words. 

"You have a place to sleep tonight?" Enjolras said, he was a bit worried for the boys safety in such a state he wouldn't have his usual wits to survive on the street. 

"Right here is fine," he slouched back further against the steps of the cafe. Enjolras bit his lip, he knew he couldn't leave the boy here with only a drunken sleeping Grantaire around to protect him.

"Come stay the night at my house," Enjolras said allowing the boy to rest his head on his shoulder.

"Don't know.. I ain't your charity case y'know... and I'll be fiiii-" the boy trailed off slowly falling deeper into his tired drunken state facilitated only by the support of Enjolras' broad shoulders. 

Enjolras knew he shouldn't give the young boy the choice between safety and the streets. He scooped him up in his arms. Gavroche's sleeping body reacted awkwardly to the caring gesture as if it was the first time the boy had been held in anyone arms. Enjolras had no trouble carrying the skinny child back to his apartment several blocks from the cafe. He used extra care not wake the boy as he slept in his large arms and it wasn't long before Enjolras had managed to make it to his home. 

Enjolras set Gavroche's sleeping body on his large velvet couch. He grabbed the boy's dirty sabots and threw them to the side of the room. He then grabbed an extra pillow and warm blanket and tucked the boy in for the night. 

Enjolras didn't wish to wake him, but still having work to do he left Gavroche there sleeping knowing he'd be safe in the locked home, for once having a comfortable warm place to sleep. 

Enjolras returned to the cafe, he had to speak to Marius now. There was no more delaying it. Enjolras found him quickly, though he seemed rather drunk. Enough so that he'd be easy to convince but not so much so that he wouldn't remember any arrangements they'd make tonight. 

"Marius, let's talk. It's important." Enjolras grunted at him interrupting the merriment of his friends. 

"Oh Enjolras can't it wait? We are celebrating!" Grantaire cried out with a laugh. 

"What are you celebrating? We have no money for weapons. We are months away from any action whatsoever!" Enjolras snapped.

"Haven't you heard? Marius is in love!" Courfeyrac exclaimed with delight. 

"Once again? And who is it this time? Another empty headed beauty like the last one and the one before?" Enjolras couldn't contain his words as they flowed out of him like venom from sharpened fangs. For years he had watched his friend Marius come back every month with another devoted love that he swore was his lost lady love for all eternity only to never speak to her again within the month.

The men roared with laughter at his harsh words, knowing there was some truth to them though the delivery was unnecessarily cruel. Marius turned red both with anger and embarrassment. "It isn't like that this time. It's different... Her name's Rosalind and she's gorgeous." Marius cooed at the sound of saying her name. 

"Anything else you know about her?" Enjolras chuckled. He was still determined to get Marius alone so he could discuss the future of l'ABC with him, but it would prove more difficult than he thought. 

"That's enough! I don't have to explain myself to you! You don't even like women," Marius responded with an uncharacteristic drunken slurring of his words. Enjolras assumed it was meant as an insult as Marius and all the men at the table laughed, but he didn't particularly care. So what if he didn't bother distracting himself with women? From what Enjolras could see so many of his friends spent most of their time complaining about them rather than complimenting them anyways. Besides Enjolras, though charming found it incredibly hard to relate to others. At least with the men of l'ABC they had a common interest of a future republic, but most women he met he had absolutely nothing in common with and he had no genuine interest in changing that. 

"Marius, please let us speak outside. It really is important." Enjolras said with sincerity this time. Marius knew he was serious and finally left with him to discuss plans outside the cafe.

Marius stumbled as they reached the exit of the cafe. He managed to catch his balance grabbing on to Enjolras' forearm. "Woah there!" he exclaimed stabilizing himself.

Enjolras rolled his eye trying to keep his short patience once again. "Perhaps you should head home its rather late anyhow?" Enjolras thought maybe walking him back would be a good way to ask him for the favor. 

"I'm quite all right, I just need to walk it off okay? Let's go." The two men headed on their way for walk around the block. Enjolras occasionally offering his arm to support his friend as they stumbled along the streets of Paris on this chilly spring night. 

"Marius, I need to talk to you about the future of the l'ABC," Enjolras said with a sigh. "As you know we lost our funding and no longer have access to weapons."

"I believe you lost our funding, somehow." Marius laughed at him and Enjolras winced, he was afraid this would happen.

"That's enough. You know I was taken advantage of. You of all people should know how one can underestimate pretty girls." Enjolras was referring to the numerous times he had picked up Marius off from the rock bottom of heartbreak when he fell so hard and so fast for nearly every beautiful woman he met.

An awkward silence fell among the pair. The two strolled through the city streets taking in the various sounds. It was relatively quiet except for the crickets chirping and the occasional braying of an unseen farm animal. And every now and again a drunk man or group of men would stumble by shouting with glee. 

"That's enuff playin' coy girlie!" The distant unknown male voice broke the silence. His words made the hair on the back of Enjolras' neck stand straight up. 

"Please! I've asked you several times to leave me alone!" a female voice responded pleading loudly with the unknown man. Enjolras looked at Marius for answers but Marius did not even seem to acknowledge what was happening. 

"Marius we need to do something..." Enjolras was scared he didn't know what to do but he knew he had to help the woman. Enjolras looked down an adjacent alley, 40 or 50 meters away two shadows lurked, one considerably taller than the other. He could barely make out their shapes but Enjolras saw the owner of the male voice towered over the much smaller female shadow, pushing her against the wall.

"It's only a squabble with prostitute, likely over price. Why should we get involved? It'll just work itself out," Marius responded nonchalantly. His mouth snarled in disgust as he said the word prostitute. This surprised Enjolras considering Marius had no issue with the men who used prostitutes, many of which were their mutual friends, even Marius partook on occasion. Enjolras was shocked and disgusted by his words. How could Marius boast his passionate love for womenkind while not even bothering to help a woman in desperate need? 

The large male shadow shoved the girl against the stone wall once more, even harder than before. He groaned loudly, "you're going to give me what I want. I'll pay you well don't worry, little one." 

The girl let out high pitched scream and yell for help. Enjolras stopped in his tracks grabbing Marius by the shoulders. "You know it is the right thing to do, Marius. Help me with this and I promise I will stop bothering you about your love life." 

"Fine," Marius replied ambivalently.

Enjolras leapt into action. "Hey!" He yelled. "What do you think you're doing? Leave her be!" The man looked back at Enjolras in shock. The girl slowly began to wriggle away. Enjolras kept stomping towards the man, attempting to make his already large frame at 6'4" more intimidating than it already was. Enjolras clenched his fists, until his knuckled turned white preparing for whatever was to come. 

"This has nothing to do with you. Go back to your lover," the man chuckled as he pointed to Marius who stood behind Enjolras, looking very unsure what to do next. The man and Enjolras stood about fifteen yards from each other. Enjolras still could not make out anything other than shadows in the dark alley light. 

"I will. Once I'm positive this woman is safe. You clearly do not respect her asking you to leave her alone," Enjolras spat at the man. The man lunged towards Enjolras, going for the stomach and attempting to tackle him to the ground. "RUN!" Enjolras yelled at the girl. She ran sprinting down the alley. Marius also followed Enjolras's instructions though Enjolras had intended for Marius to help defend him against the disgusting man. 

Distracted from the abandonment by his friend Enjolras fell to the cobblestone ground from the hard tackle. He chuckled a little to himself and Marius' quick exit. The amusement was quickly wiped off his face as he felt to cold hard fist of the man pound into his jaw with violent furry. Enjolras winced in pain, still trying to process his surroundings.

Boom. Again another fist blew to his head, this time heading for his nose. Enjolras heard a large crack echo throughout the alley only to be drowned out by him crying out in sheer agony. The man pulled his fist back again for another blow, Enjolras still incredibly dazed reacted clumsily turned his head slightly to avoid the third punch. The man missed, just grazing Enjolras' ear. The man screamed in pain as another loud crack echoed throughout the alley as his fist came into contact with pavement.

Enjolras used his strength to lift his arm to the man's neck and squeezing. The two rolled around in the alley fighting for dominance until finally, Enjolras pinned the man. Enjolras landed three swift blows as hard as he could to the man's face before the man lost consciousness. Enjolras hovered above the man's unconscious body panting. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and began mixing with the blood from his wounds.

Enjolras stood up and dusted himself off, still cautious of the passed out attacker. He looked around for Marius, though Enjolras knew he was already long gone. So much for backing him up, Enjolras thought. 

Enjolras head was throbbing, his speeding heart beat echoing in his mind. He was shocked by how quickly his punches had subdued the man. Enjolras clearly didn't know his own strength. Enjolras was frightful of his brute strength and short temper that he still could not control. He worried about the terrible acts he might be capable of committing in the name of his beliefs if he could not control himself. He shook the thought from his mind in the same way he shook the blood of the man off his fists.

Enjolras had seen enough action for the night. It was time for him to head home.

******

Éponine panted violently once she was finally safe enough to catch her breath. She had lost her crutch during the escape, oh well she thought better to lose a crutch than her honor. 

"Is this yours mademoiselle?" Éponine whipped her head around to see the most gorgeous man she had ever seen before, nay it was the very man of her dreams. It was her green eyed neighbor that she had already dreamt so dearly of. Éponine blushed quickly forgetting the chaos that had just occurred. She looked to the gentleman's hands. He was holding her crutch, how kind of him, she thought. Not only had he saved her from danger he had gotten her crutch for her as well. 

"Why yes um thank you," Éponine was suddenly very aware of how she appeared, her ratty clothes, crutch, and dirty face. She took the crutch from his hand trying hide her insecurities with a squirm. "I must thank you for saving me, if it wasn't for you I don't know what I would've done," Éponine said with pure admiration. 

"Oh it was nothing," Her beautiful neighbor replied casually. 

"I am Éponine! It is nice to finally meet such a gentleman in Paris." Éponine extended her slightly dirty hand. The man looked annoyed but still took it gently only to quickly release it back to her. 

"Marius, Maris Pontmercy" He said with a smile, his smile dazzled her and put a flutter in her heart. "I believe, why you look rather familiar... Do you live at Gorbeau house?"

Éponine was flattered but embarrassed he remembered her while she was dirty and sitting outside the slum her family inhabited. Still to be remembered as a lowly peasant was still better than not being remembered at all. 

"Yes... sir I believe we may be neighbors," Éponine replied shyly.

"Well as your neighbor allow me to walk you home," Marius said. Marius did not grab her arm or hold her hand escorting her, but together the two walked learning about each other's extremely different lives, but similar childhoods. Éponine read certain streets signs as they passed, trying to impress Marius though he hardly caught on. Instead Marius began discussing a woman he knew named Rosalind. In fact, it wasn't until they reached Gorbeau house that Marius finally ceased bragging about her. 

"Thank you again, Monsieur Pontmercy. I don't know how I'll ever repay you," Éponine batted her long dark eyelashes as the man. In the moonlight, Éponine could only catch glimpses on shimmer within his green eyes, but still, they melted her heart and brought deep and unyielding tightness in her chest. Heat flooded her face still her cheeks scorched, reminding her just how she felt during her dream that very morning. 

"Do not fret, mademoiselle. You can repay me one day. Your craftiness seems as though it may come in handy to me one day." He winked at her and Éponine's knees buckled. 

"I will look forward to it," Éponine winked back at him. And the two wished each other a good night and left to their homes. 

Éponine shut her front door behind her as quietly as she could. She rested her head on the back of the door, and then slid down gripping to her knees in a seated position. With a tiny quiet squeal, Éponine celebrated the formal introduction to her new crush, completely forgetting the circumstances causing them to meet. All Éponine could remember is that Marius and Marius alone had saved her.


	5. Chapter V: Financial Institutions

Éponine ran from it in pure terror. She fought her body and managed to run however with each step it became harder and harder. With every gallop she took her stride became smaller and smaller. Her legs felt as if they were moving through a sea of wet cement, and with each step if became harder and harder to go on as her legs became too heavy to lift any further. But Éponine could not stop running, she was terrified. Her head began to spin and her vision blurred. She heard cackles behind her and men saying words she could not make out with her distorted senses. 

She felt like as if she had been drugged and her little body was desperately fighting to stay awake and run away from whatever was chasing her. She couldn't understand how on earth she had gotten here or what on earth was chasing her. All she knew is if she could just keep fighting a little longer, take even just one more step she'd be safe. Éponine gritted her teeth and with all her might pushed her body forward another step.

Her legs began to give out. But she had to keep going. She began to crawl her legs dragging behind her against the dark stone ground. Determination brought on only by fear raged within her and still, she kept going even as the ground scraped against her knees causing blood to draw. But still, she kept crawling, even after her arms pulled themselves forward for what she swore was the last possible time. This went on for what felt like hours, but she still kept crawling terrified of what would happen if she ever stopped or even tried to see what was chasing her.

And then it was all black. 

Éponine awoke with a jolt. She was sweating profusely. Her shift was soaked in sweat, as were the sheets of the bed she shared with her sister. It was all a dream. A dream, unlike any Éponine, had ever had before. She shuddered at the thought of what it meant. To feel so terrified and so out of control of one's body? She rubbed her arms to comfort herself, feeling the goosebumps that had developed on her skin from both fear and chill. The single bedroom was cold, why judging by the light outside it couldn't be much earlier than four in the morning. 

Éponine sighed knowing tonight would bring her little sleep, though she couldn't understand why. She was used to men treating her poorly or even soliciting her for sex. The same situation had even occurred before. Of course Éponine was able to run on both feet properly then. Éponine had even been able to defend herself not just run away, though that was always her safest bet. But with her sprained ankle, she hadn't been able to get away.

Éponine didn't wish to dwell on her vulnerability. Instead, she shifted her attention to her savior. Éponine had given up any thoughts of being a damsel in distress the minute her family had lost everything. Why on earth would she be worth saving, she was just a peasant? But Marius clearly was not like the other men of Paris. He saw her status and appearance and respected her in spite of it all, and oh how Éponine loved him for that. 

Éponine sighed in admiration, Marius a man who truly respects women and wants to protect them, she thought to herself. The pleasant thoughts of his heroic actions slowly helped Éponine back to a dreamless light slumber, which she gladly accepted over her previous night terror.

*******

Enjolras awoke the next morning looking like he had survived hell. He rushed to the water closet and stood before the mirror once again to examine his face. He had two dark swollen black eyes, his nose was completely swollen and red. Dried blood spurted from his nostrils. His once beautiful slender adonis-like nose had not only temporarily swelled up to twice its size but a large crook had replaced the once straight line formed from bone connecting to cartilage. 

Enjolras touched his face in horror only to wince in pain at the sensation. His beautiful face had been ruined he prayed none of it would be permanent, though he knew better that he would likely have few scars if not a crooked nose forever. 

Tears attempted to fall but Enjolras forbade them. He did not want the first tear he had shed in a year to be over something as futile as his vanity. 

Enjolras felt resentful. He resented the man who did this to him. He resented men who treated women like objects. He resented himself for caring about his looks despite everything that had happened. But most of all he resented his friend for betraying him. Part of him even resented himself for putting himself in such harm's way for a stranger. He knew playing the hero wasn't the wise pragmatic choice, but yet he knew he couldn't have ignored the woman in danger as Marius would've. 

Marius had proven his loyalty last night, or lack thereof. If he was willing to run when a single man threatened danger Enjolras shuttered to think how he would react in the heat of battle. 

Enjolras moaned in pain as he splashed water on his face and attempted to cleanse his wounds. 

Enjolras stared at his face in the mirror before him, hands resting on the water basin, face still dripping wet. Enjolras stared deeply into his own black and blue swollen eyes allowing his sadness to seep in. He was pulled from his state by a sudden knock at the door. 

Enjolras opened it to reveal a very exhausted Gavroche. The boy grumbled past him heading the to chamber pot, not waiting for Enjolras to leave the room before relieving himself.

Enjolras prepared himself and the boy breakfast. Gruel with dates he had bought special from a merchant. Gavroche exited the water closet finally acknowledging the reality of Enjolras' face.

"Holy shit! Did I do that? I truly do not know my own strength," Gavroche laughed, assuming a fighting stance before being grossly reminded of his splitting hangover headache.

"No, you were passed out for the entire night. A true sleeping angel," Enjolras mocked knowing the words would annoy the precocious young boy. He passed the gruel to the boy and he quickly began to wolf it down. "Speaking of which, you need to slow down. Men of l'ABC are not the ones to admire." 

Gavroche shrugged knowing Enjolras was right, but refusing to admit it. Enjolras dropped the subject knowing Gavroche was already suffering enough from his hangover and a lecture right now would only hurt Enjolras' attempt.

"I appreciate the help last night, but you know I would've been fine on my own." 

Enjolras laughed. "You know that's not true do you even remember last night?" Enjolras grabbed Gavroche's hat from the table and placed it on the boy's head, so it just slightly tipped over his eyes. 

"It's vague, I'll admit it." Gavroche had already finished his breakfast just has Enjolras had begun. The boy gave Enjolras a hard pat on the back, "Thanks for the food! I'll see you back at the café later, I've got some things to take care of." 

"All right sir. See you later, keep an eye out okay?" Enjolras chuckled to himself, knowing the boy was hardly ever careful but was always street smart. 

Enjolras sat at the table staring at the plain gruel before him. His brow furrowed in frustration, pain from his swollen eye responded to the movement and he winced once more. Enjolras cursed under his breath throwing the half eaten gruel in the trash. His appetite was too low any how. Enjolras instead began to pace nervously. He still needed a solution to the missing funds for l'ABC's plan. He had tried to solicit the funding from Marius last night before the incident, but after the stunt he pulled he doubt Marius would be a good team player. But it was his last shot.

Enjolras dressed in his signature navy slacks and a red jacket over a white collarless shirt. The subtle v cut neckline drifted done revealing glimpses of his taught stomach when sat down. He then proceeded to make his way to the cafe. 

Enjolras spent two hours in the cafe working tirelessly scribbling an endless brainstorm of get rich quick schemes. It wasn't until the near afternoon that Marius entered the cafe and sheepishly approached the focused Enjolras. 

Enjolras sighed to himself. 

"What do you want?"

"I'm surprised you're even speaking to me, honestly." Marius chuckled pulling up a chair across from Enjolras.

"I wouldn't normally. But I have a way you can redeem yourself." Enjolras smiled wide flashing his perfect white teeth.

"And what would that be?" He cocked his eyebrow at Enjolras in confusion.

"As you know we are in a bit of budget crisis," Enjolras got up from his seat and began pacing with nervous arrogance about the empty cafe as he spoke.

"I believe that was your fault," Marius looked annoyed, seeming to know where this train of thought was going. 

"You know I do not have access to my trust anymore, not after my last fifteen withdrawals for the rebellions. I cannot access unless I marry. I need your help funding until we can find a permanent solution."

"It was your choice to bankroll your passion project not mine. I only signed up to help you, Enjolras."

"No, you signed up for a better future for France Marius? Don't you want that for your future children?" Marius looked to the ground, unable to face Enjolras' pleading eyes. Enjolras could tell the words were resonating with his friend. "Besides after last night, it's this or be shunned." Enjolras smiled a wicked smile.

"Fine. I'll do it... But you'll pay me back once this 'permanent solution' is found, right? This is strictly a loan, since I pity your stupidity." 

Enjolras patted Marius' back with a smile. "Naturally. I can't tell you how much I appreciate Marius. This calls for a drink!" 

"I see. Money is all it takes to get you to drink, what a cheap whore you are, Enjolras." Marius laughed to himself as Enjolras left opportunely to grab the celebratory mugs of mead from the barmaid. 

The two men celebrated together. Reminiscing of the days when they were closer as young boys in school. The two had know each other since childhood, and though incredibly different both felt a sense of duty and loyalty to each other. 

Both significantly drunk and finally confident Marius apologized to Enjolras for his lack of loyalty to Enjolras the night before. Enjolras's still black and swollen eyes were unusually forgiving this night under the influence. The two ended the night drinking, singing, and reminiscing until it was dark. 

Enjolras and Marius walked to exit the café feeling closer than they had in years. Marius went to hug Enjolras. In return Enjolras froze, allowing Marius to wrap his arms around him in an embrace, a rare allowance for Enjolras. The two then parted ways, saying goodbye. And Enjolras began a slow lonely trek back to this apartment. 

*****

Éponine sat beneath the steps of Gorbeau House. It had been hours, gotten dark and chilly, but still she waited. She was waiting for Marius. 

She rubbed her still swollen ankle. Feeling stupid for commitment to wait for Marius, a man she barely knew. Just as she began to doubt her choices, a shadow appeared down the block.

A drunken Marius emerged, stumbling through the cobblestone streets. Éponine's heart fluttered. She hobbled as fast as she could to his side, flitting like an awkward large bird. He was surprised by her presence and nearly fell back. 

"Monsieur Marius! I wanted to give you this, as a token of my gratitude for saving me yesterday." She pulled a slightly dirtied white handkerchief from the breast of her clothes. She offered it to him smiling, fluttering her eyelash and flashing a glint of yellow teeth at him. 

He accepted the gesture though he looked unpleased, even disgusted taking a step away from her encroaching face. "Thanks."

She stepped in front of him as he tried to leave towards his apartment desperate to keep his audience. "I truly do not know what I would've done if you had not shown up, Monsieur!" 

"Well, I do love to play the hero on occasion" Marius laughed to himself as if Éponine was hardly part of the conversation. "Well anyways. Bonne Nuit.. uhhh" He stared at her with drunken confusion.

"Éponine" She replied her cheeks reddened this time with embarressment, not lust. This was not going how she anticipated. However, she didn't really know what she expected. After all, they were from completely different worlds, Marius saving her would be the beginning and end of any feasible relationship between them. 

"Yes, of course. Bonne Nuit Éponine." Marius stumbled into his apartment without another word.

"Bonne Nuit Monsieur Marius!" She called after him as he left.

Éponine stumbled as well with her swollen into her own home far below Marius's luxurious apartment. In the darkness, she eventually found her way to her bed. Snuggled in and cried until sleep relieved her.


	6. Chapter VI: Debts Unimaginable

The marketplace was packed overwhelming Enjolras as he and Courfeyrac towered over other patrons and merchants. Enjolras was grateful for his height as he could easily see over many of the people blocking his path. 

He and Courfeyrac were off the gunsmith to gather supplies. They both knew the risks associated with purchasing guns illegally and a hefty bride indeed would be needed. Enjolras and Courfeyrac had pulled their money to cover it, under the promise from Marius that he would fund the actual purchase. Enjolras knew that he needed to find some source of income and soon, his contribution to the bride of 35 francs had left an ache in his wallet. There was nothing more dangerous than being broke in Paris, Enjolras had seen the effects of that outside his door. 

Enjolras had lost his patience and pushed past the slow townspeople with haste. The loud market made it hard to tell if Courf was in fact following behind him, Enjolras shot a glance behind. Courf was there, but as he turned his head back he thought he saw something. The flash of a familiar face lurking behind the fruit stands stopped him in his tracks. Could it be her?

An old woman behind him pushed Enjolras not so gently forward with her sack of groceries distracting his gaze and faltering his balance. He turned back to where the girl was but there was nothing there. 

He could've sworn he saw that thief who had robbed him only a few days before. Her scrawny and small frame made her easily elusive, and she must have slipped behind another stand. Or perhaps he was just seeing things. Enjolras attempted to cross through the sea of people to chase after whatever he thought he saw. The flow of traffic however blocked his way. 

Courfeyrac called after him. "Enjolras, what are you doing? You're going the wrong way!" 

Enjolras pressed on bumping into far too many people than he cared to. Finally reaching the edge of the crowd where the stand was he peered over the box and crates, through the tents scanning. He paced further down perhaps hoping to find her. Completely unsure why or what he would even say if he found her. Or why on earth he thought she'd be willing to talk to him. It wasn't vengeance he sought, not even a lecture perhaps. He knew she likely did need the money, from his first impressions of her and gaunt figure. Despite not even knowing why though something compelled him to find her. Just to see her even just look at her one last time, before she slipped away from view again. But it was no luck.

Courfeyrac caught up to Enjolras, placing a thick knuckled hand on his shoulder, "Are you all right Enjolras?" 

"Yeah... I'm fine," Enjolras mumbled. Taking one last starving look out over the sea of strangers. "I just thought I saw someone– come on let's go before we attract any more attention."

****

Later that night Le Café Musain bellowed proudly with the celebrations of young men celebrating the news l'ABC securing temporary funding and the promise of weapons for the rebellion's cause thanks to Marius's forced generosity. In return, Marius did not object to the insistent men offering him drinks in gratitude. 

Enjolras sat slightly excluded from the festivities filling the entirety of a small round table in the corner. He was with his paperwork and books just so as to ensure that no one would disturb him. The loud atmosphere may have disturbed another but at this point, he was used to his "office space" becoming a drunkard hall as early as midday.

Enjolras was merely appearing to look busy not feeling up to celebrate despite his high spirits. Grantaire saw through this though and still staggered into the opposite seat, lounging casually sipping his wine. "What other superfluous tasks have you created to overextend yourself this time?" Grantaire grabbed the parchment from beneath Enjolras's quill. "Ahh yes theoretical inventory for supplies bought with theoretical coin we don't even have"

"That we don't even have yet..." Enjolras mumbled to himself in a rare attempt at half-hearted positivity, knowing Grantaire was in fact correct. The money Marius had promised was still only a theoretical promise. It had been two days since Enjolras had asked Marius to subsidize the cause and though reassuring as Marius was with his words no true action had appeared to taken place yet. "Than that would make the need for celebration theoretical as well, Grantaire," Enjolras said cocking his brow in playfulness and snatching his paper back. Over the last few days, his right eye's bruise had faded to a light yellowish green mark. However, his left eye that took the brut of the attack remained rather swollen and stained with a dark purple ring reminding him of his previous attempt at martyrdom and restricting his unruly brow's habit of expressing every negative emotion he had. Over the past few days, his nose remained tender and crooked, creating an unfamiliar sense of insecurity within Enjolras, serving as a selfish warning as to not sacrifice himself again.

"Celebration for any purpose builds morale within your faction! Haven't you learned that in your near two years as m– our courageous leader?" Grantaire stumbled with his words slightly, however, Enjolras was too hurt by the words to notice.

"Your livers are constantly bursting with morale Grantaire, I'm sure a night off of Celebrating could never threaten that." Enjolras deflected the question with sass not knowing how to respond to the purposefully innocuous yet personally loaded question. Grantaire hadn't meant to get under Enjolras' skin. Enjolras' emotional insecurity managed to do so on its own. 

Enjolras felt as though he lacked the traits he had admired so greatly in the previous faction leader of l'ABC and his mentor, Jean Claude. Since his death during the Revolution of 1830 where they had successfully helped overthrow the Bourbon monarchy, Enjolras had felt nothing he had accomplished compared to Claude's dedication. And he feared his inability to maintain productive change to the Republic over the past two years meant his mentor and former friend's death would remain in vain. The shame overcame him quickly and he tuned out any response Grantaire had given to their banter. Staring blankly at the spot where he had been writing before the conversation began allowing the edges of his sight to fade to black. Perhaps it would've just been better if I had died with my brothers back then instead of playing revolutionary idly for the past two years, Enjolras thought to himself. 

"Enjolras?" Grantaire waved his hands in front of his face trying to get Enjolras' attention. "Are you even listening to me? Whatever..." defeated and drunk Grantaire gave up.

"Huh? Sorry I- I just, it's nothing. What time is it anyway?" Enjolras responded freeing himself from his daze. 

"Uhh nearly 2200 hours," Grantaire said glazing lazily at the clock across the bar.

Enjolras shook himself physically perhaps in hopes to shake his weak mind from dwelling on his intrusive guilt. "Perhaps a drink wouldn't be the worst thing after all..." Enjolras mumbled to Grantaire. 

"I love it when you play nice," Grantaire teased. Enjolras flashed a glare at him but Garantaire had already got up to grab a mug of ale from the bar. Enjolras gathered his papers and books into his knapsack and allowing himself to finally relax after working all day. Music played by a three-piece band consisting of fiddle, bass, and piano boomed throughout the small bar entertaining a crowded bustling but small dance floor on the lower level. Enjolras received his drink from Grantaire taking a swig in hopes of drowning his anxieties, though he knew better that it would cure nothing, with each sip and each amber drink he began to feel warmer both physically and metaphorically. He relaxed into his chair, allowing Grantaire to tease him for his disheveled appearance. 

"If any of your family saw you looking like you do now they'd kick you out of the entire bourgeoisie, perhaps France. Just to save embarrassment." 

Enjolras chortled in laughter, choking on his drink. Hacking firey alcohol and snorting with laughter. 

Suddenly the music cut abruptly and quiet began to fill the entire building, leaving the hair on the back of Enjolras' neck alert. The sound of large boots clobbered up the stairs and four large men piled in making room for themselves without permission. The smallest among them walked intently with a ferociously dramatic flick of his black velvet riding cape. He approached the table Marius was sitting at.

Marius glanced up at the man acknowledging him drunkenly but before he could do anything more the man dressed in black grabbed Marius by the scruff of his neck and reared his head back, finally slamming it on the table with such force the room nearly shook. Marius screamed in agony. Enjolras lept from his chair ready to march over to the scene but two large henchmen blocked his way before he could. 

"You know why we're here don't you?" with each word said the stranger tightened his grip on the fistful of Marius' hair. Marius could only gasp for air in both shock and as blood dripped from his nose into his mouth preventing any coherent speech. The man pulled in hair ripping his head back to force him to look up into his eyes directly. 

"ARGUUHH!" was all Marius could expel from his mouth. 

"You need to pay us by this time tomorrow or out next conversation will be less– amiable" 

"I– I– will I swear, I swear! This time it is true!" Marius cried out in pain and desperation. 

"I would hope so, because there are no more second chances, Marius," the man let go of Marius' hair. Marius panted in relief and winced as he touched his bloody nose with a handkerchief. 

The entourage of men filed out of the bar quickly and orderly. Enjolras rushed to Marius' side

"What the fuck was that about?" Enjorlas interrogated the bleeding boy. 

"Are not even going to ask how I am?" Marius responded in a nasal tone through his bloodied handkerchief.

"How are you going to pay your debts off and help me? How much do you even owe?" Enjolras refused to drop the line of questioning. 

"Stop being so demanding for fucks sake! At least allow me to breathe,"

"You know that you owe me, Marius, you left me out there to be beaten to a pulp. You made a promise!"

"Yah? Well now we both have broken noses, you can finally sleep easy. Call it even. Seriously get a grip Enjolras why– the fuck would I bankroll your death warrant? You're absolutely delusional if you think any of this toy soldier bollucks is going to provide any reasonable change to anyone in France."

"I'm not a fucking soldier Marius, I'm goddamned revolutionary treat me as such." and with that Enjorlas stormed down the steps and out of the silent bar with a furious huff. 

Enjolras' hot skin reacted almost sizzling to the cool midnight air, raindrops drizzled down his face calming him down more than any drink could. God, what pretentious thing to say, Enjolras thought to himself. But what a prick Marius could be. Perhaps Enjolras had been demanding of Marius, but he never would've asked him for the money if he knew Marius was in debt, with what appeared to be some kind of loan shark or bookie. Marius had been dishonest on both his debt and to Enjorlas, and now Enjolras would need to start all over in securing funding if Enjorlas truly wanted to call himself a 'goddamned revolutionary'. 

Enjolras thought he heard something behind him, he sighed opening his eyes from his meditative state in the downpour and peered around at his surroundings confirming he was indeed alone. Although he couldn't shake the feeling like he was being watched.

Well, any way sleep, he thought. For now and then back to work tomorrow. 

*****

Éponine was shaking, sopping wet. What on earth was she doing? She sat perched on the fire escape of some apartment building, the owner of which she assumed was absent, as no one so far had disturbed her on her perch over the city. 

Perhaps it was time to finally give up, it was getting incredibly embarrassing and rather obsessive at this point. 

Just several hours before Époinine had most 'accidentally' seen Marius stroll into this Café, and hoped to wait outside until he left. So that he may 'accidentally bump into her on the way home.' Perhaps even being the gentleman he was Marius would walk her home. Making her feel like such a lady– but at this point, that seemed incredibly unlikely. 

After about an hour of waiting, Éponine thought the fire escape may allow her some discrete view of the inside of the café. Only to make sure Marius was indeed okay. 'Quite innocent' Éponine thought to herself. She had gotten a partial view of what appeared to be a top-level bar within the café however the music was far too loud to hear anything. She adjusted her position with little acknowledgment of her safety or comfort peering over the rail she could just make out Marius. "My Marius," she pleaded to herself just barely letting the words escape as if they were still secret even to herself. She relaxed slightly knowing he was still inside and this evening, well now night could still have potential. She slumped onto the cold iron platform letting her legs hang adventurously over the edge. She leaned her hot forehead against the cold iron railing and stared up at the clear night sky full of stars and all her picturesque but unobtainable dreams, allowing the hours to pass unusually graciously. 

However, it was now midnight and the weather had turned most unfavorably. She was cold and extremely soaked and started to feel extremely silly with every minute she remained. In the romance of the Parisian starlight perhaps Éponine had gotten too confident. Maybe it was the new income she had that finally allowed her to take better care of herself that encouraged this overzealous behavior. But in the rain, she looked as ragged as ever and no longer had any desire to see Marius. 

Just as she began to ascend the fire escape ladder, the noisy café fell silent. Éponine was immediately curious and peered back over the railing. Some commotion was happening, she saw large figures dressed all in black approach Marius' table but mostly only saw shapes and blurs. 

"ARGUUHH!" was all she need to hear however to get Éponine to book it down the fire escape trying her best to travel quickly down the slippery iron ladder. 

"Ughhh" Her hand slipped causing a painful rip of skin as she attempted to grasp the soaking ladder again, in haste for both her safety and Marius'. She regained control however, making her way to the café entrance approaching from the side. Forgetting that she did not want Marius to see her in her soaked state. The doors of the Café burst open violently and Éponine quickly ran to the side of the building to remain hidden. 

Peering over she saw a man run from the cafe into the pouring rain looking furious but desperate to calm down. His fists were balled tightly as he stared at the sky eyes closed allowing the rain to ripple down his body. The rain soaked through his shirt, teasing the pink muscles lying beneath. Éponine found herself unable to look away, as her eyes drifted down his body making out sinewy lines along his pelvis leading to– well... Éponine gulped her face flushed. Heat trickled throughout her entire body up to her face causing a small gasp to escape her lips, still louder than she dared. The same familiar heat she felt when she saw Marius in her dreams. 

The rain greatly distorted both her view and his appearance, however, there was an attractive familiarity Éponine felt towards the stranger.

His opened his eyes and looked around calmly and intently as if the rain had rebirthed him into an even-tempered man, if only for a short while. 

"Shiiiettt" Éponine squeaked careful that only she could hear. Slamming her body silently against the café, in hopes of hiding herself from the attractive stranger. Luckily he did not appear to notice her stunned by him in his see-through tunic, as he simply walked away, leaving Éponine in bewilderment and absolutely out of breath.

He was almost enough to make Éponine forget why she had come here in the first place. 'What is wrong with me,' she thought. 'I'm so boy crazy I cannot keep my head straight'. Luckily it wasn't long before a bloodied and bruised Marius exited the café as well. He was not as welcoming to the rain choosing to remain beneath the awning. 

This was Éponine's chance she thought to herself. Now or never. She strolled casually as she possibly could, hoping that any drink he had might mask the obvious act. She pretended to be freezing cold running home and taking a moment under the café awning to get dry. She ran beneath it with pretend franticness. 

"BRRRRrrrr!" Éponine rubbed her shoulders dramatically. "Sure is wet out tonight!" She said casually as if she hadn't even notice Marius. He was now sitting on the bench under cover packing his pipe with tobacco muttering about his bloody nose. He didn't seem to acknowledge her there, and her heart sank. Had she given herself pneumonia for nothing? "BRRRRR!" She repeated just a little louder, as one last desperate try.

He glanced in her direction, looking somewhat annoyed. "Yup. Sure is," he replied curtly.

Was this an opportunity or an invitation to leave? Éponine literally couldn't tell, her complete lack of experience courting kept her clueless. 

They sat in silence as Éponine rubbed her arms. Marius took a long drag from his pipe. Finally acknowledging the girl's appearance by looking her up and down intently. 

"Wait I know you," he laughed, seemingly drunk. "You're uhh, wait I think I remember– Penelope? No wait uhhh... Pony?"

"It's Éponine." Her face blushed with embarrassment he still wasn't remembering her name and here she was spending hours of her precious time just to speak to him for minutes. 

"Oh right," he chuckled to himself, "Ha ha pony!" A snort escaped his injured nose and he let out a small yelp of pain. Éponine found this all too endearing to remember any of his past discretions.

"Are you okay?!" she rushed to his side as if to attend to his wounds now feeling slightly more comfortable. 

He shifted a bit keeping a healthy distance between the two. 

"I'm fine, well I supposed I'm not as you can clearly see."

"Could do anything to help you? Your nose does look badly injured." She reached a hand out gently.

He moved her hand away from him. "It's really fine. No offense but perhaps a more– sterile environment is suited for that." His voice, full of ice, echoed in her mind forcing her to shrink within herself and her eyes uncontrollably water. 

"I s'ppose that's correct, sir. I truly apologize for my forwardness." she lept from the bench from the reproach and turned her head away to hide any tears that would come, finally grateful that the rain could help hide them. 

"It's fine, you're a sweet girl, I get it. Girls like you get crushes you people like me all the time...you're not the first it's all right." his drunkenness has gone from noticeable to distracting. Marius slumped within his jacket huffing his pipe in a marathon of black smoke. 

He said it as if it was genuine reassurance but Éponine could only stand there in shock. Sure confidence was sexy, but drunken arrogance was obnoxious, and though she had no experience in courting or understanding of how she deserved to be treated, she knew now was the time to draw the line. He would always see her as a street urchin if she didn't. It did not matter to him that she had spent extra money this week bathing and laundering her clothes just in case she saw him. It would never matter new purple ribbon she had bought herself to match his jacket, she often saw him wearing. It didn't even matter that they were neighbors. She would always be beneath him. And even though she could accept that everyone else in Paris might see her that way it still shattered her to realize Marius was just as judgemental towards people of her station as everyone else. And he would always be just like the rest of them until she proved to him that she was nothing like what he thought of her. Until she exceptional, she would be invisible to him. 

"No there's nothing you can do for me, Pony" he said sighing, forgetting his previous mistakes again. "Not unless for some godforsaken reason you have 200 francs on hand I can borrow," he bellowed with laughter. Tears formed in his eyes from laughing so hard at the idea that someone like Éponine helping him with his money problems. 

Tears formed in Éponine's eyes too. But from pure embarrassment and anger. 'How dare he,' she thought wiping them away discreetly. She laughed it off faking as if she was in on the joke as well. 

Fighting back tears and forcing a smile all her pride allowed her to say was, "200 francs? That's nothing! Of course, I'll loan you it!" Éponine bit the inside of her cheek with almost immediate regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! Hopefully even with my busy university schedule, I can keep posting somewhat consistently. I pretty much have the entire story 'mapped out', it's all just about getting it out on the page now, the hardest part! <3 Anyways if anyone is still here, please vote and comment and have a wonderful day! Also a likely unnecessary disclaimer but probably don't do anything little creeper Éponine does here, that might get you in trouble for stalking!


	7. Chapter VII: Dire Circumstances

TW: parental abuse

A sharp screech echoed throughout the dingy room. Iron hooks scraping across the iron rod signaled the imposing stream of sunlight, the unwelcomed arrival of the new day, and the end of sleep, as Éponine's father maliciously ripped back the curtains to awake her. Éponine's eyes scrunched in reproach to the arrival of sunshine in the once dim room. 

"You need to wake up!" Éponine's father demanded, his large red mutton chops rustling with each emphasized word. "I've been far too lenient with you as you are my favorite child and you did injure yourself helping this family, but I will no longer be taken advantage of by you."

"You keep calling that, but I have no idea what that means. Favorite child? And what benefit do I receive from such an illustrious title? None I have seen so far," she grumbled attempting to match his dramatic energy. Failing, due to approaching migraine caused by the rude awakening via daylight.

"The very fact that I let you speak to me this way and you're not out on the street with your ungrateful brother right now is enough reward. D'not make me ask again, Éponine, I am not joking wit' you! You must work today or there will be no more warnings. Your sister has already left to deliver this week's round of letters, I suggest you join us down by L'Café Musain when you are ready, your highness." Her father spat at her feet and turned to leave.

"Wait! What are we doing there?" Éponine asked, curious if she may have the chance to see Marius again after their last awkward interaction. 

"There are revolutionaries, petite and moyenne bourgeoisie types that are 'sympathetic philanthropists'. If we put on a good show for them, we're sure to make the rent," Monsieur Thénardier explained with slight disdain. After having dropped from the petite social class of being an innkeeper and landlord, Éponine knew he did not enjoy begging for money and paying to live in poor conditions from men once his equal. However, working for a man his equal felt even more embarrassing and shameful for him. Thénardier felt his superior mind privy to tricks and scams would bring him fortune once again, this impoverishment was merely temporary. Once he had garnered enough favor and money running schemes, he too would enjoy his former social status once again, leaving the world unchanged. At least that was his plan. 

Éponine knew her luck had been pushed far enough and got ready for her day, dressing herself in a somewhat clean chemise and a maroon skirt that had once been her mother's. She buckled her large green belt around her waist hoping to hold up the skirt that was far too big for her.

She left to meet her father and mother by L'Café Musain, the whole stroll keeping a vigilant eye for Marius. It wasn't long before she felt her luck turn and saw him. He was different than usual this time, however, and not just due to his slightly noticeable healing broken nose. He waved at her approaching her with joy and warmth, rather than the cold and distant usual treatment she received. 

Éponine beamed at him returning an enthusiastic wave running to meet him. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur Marius!" Éponine gave a small curtsy. 

Marius chuckled, "No need for such formalities with me, Éponine." He smiled at her and her heart nearly melted. Any doubts she had about her rash actions of the night before were immediately replaced with hope and desire to be saved by Marius once more. 

"Oh pardon me Monsieur, I had no idea we had become such fast friends." She chuckled to him in hopes of relieving her own awkward feelings. 

"Well, you were the only one there for me when I truly had nothing. Thanks to you, today I am still alive. I cannot say the same for those who claim to be my close friends, and for that, I will always be indebted to you."

Éponine was speechless. 'This was the Marius she knew, the genuine and kind Marius who valued her character over her status,' Éponine thought to herself. 

"Of course sir, but it is I who is indebted to you. You saved me first, therefore we are now equals." Éponine extended her hand to shake this time Marius took it in kindness instead of disgusted hesitation as he had the first time they met. "Once you pay me back, of course." She playfully cocked her eyebrow as their hands shook and he smiled at the gesture sending a warm shiver down Éponine's spine that ruminated deep within her belly. 

"Of course Mademoiselle equals and friends at last. A gentleman always makes good on his debts. You needn't worry." Marius dropped her hand still smiling down at the small girl. "I will see my Grandfather tomorrow and this will all be sorted through, do not worry." 

Éponine wasn't worried. She was far too concerned with staring up at his plump pink lips as he spoke, rather than hearing the words that fell from them. How she longed to lean up and into them just as her dreams had so often pictured. This was by far the closest they had ever stood to each other and Éponine felt the tension within in her rising with each second of eye contact they held. She desperately yearned to reach out and gently kiss the swollen skin just below his eyes, to comfort him from his pain the night before. Both a nurturing yet intimate act Éponine longed to perform. She swallowed these desires however and instead chose to bring herself home to the conversation that Marius had obliged himself to control. She tuned in finally as he finished his rambling all she caught was something about Rosalind. 

'Oh shit, right Rosalind' Éponine thought. The one he loves, the one who loves him. And that all too familiar sadness returned to Éponine. 

"I could never talk to her about this, she would deem me an unsuitable and lowly rake if she were to ever learn of my gambling debts. That is why I do greatly appreciate our friendship so. I fear there are few I feel can speak so freely with." Éponine beamed in response to the heartfelt compliment, she felt he was being uniquely genuine at this moment and prayed it could last forever. 

But she was never that fortunate. 

"ÉHH'PoniNNNE" a familiar voice screamed. 

"WHHAAAAT?" She screamed back extremely annoyed hardly breaking eye contact with Marius though his face was perplexed and quickly turned to face the source of the disturbance, much to Éponine's dismay. 

"You were late, you have been late, and you currently are late. Now move! Before I sell you to a dock officer, you ungrateful child." Her father yelled at her from across the square making sure she knew that he had indeed found her diddle-daddling and would no longer tolerate it. Public humiliation this time was his form of punishment. She begged Marius with desperate eyes not to judge her for her father's actions. 

"Monsieur, you will not address the lady so," Marius tried to stand for his new friend feeling a developing fondness and protectiveness over a friend who had been protective of him or perhaps the money she had provided him in an hour of need was enough to buy his friendship for the afternoon. 

"I will address my daughter however I wish. No boy, nay child will tell how to parent my daughter. Honestly, tell me what you will do about it, I would love to know your opinion on it all." Thénardier towered over Marius, utilizing his large frame, belly, and height to intimidate Marius into indeed feeling like a little boy. Marius's fondness had not reached that deep and his goal to protect Éponine shifted to protecting himself. 

"N–n-no sir, I apologize," Marius shrunk even further in fear, and though Éponine understood as she too was terrified of her father it hardly fed her fantasy of Marius being her hero. It hardly fed her attraction to him either. 

"That's what I thought, boy." Thénardier stared Marius up and down with imposing eyes, making Marius gulp. "Com'on now girl. We are leaving, we have work to do." Thénardier snatched Éponine's arm with familiar force. With the constant grabbing, there was no time for old to heal and new bruises to form and tiny near-permanent fingerprint sized bruises freckled her right forearm arm right in the place he would always grab and drag her. 

Rather than fight any of it, she obliged knowing the privilege she had already taken today as a favorite was now expired. Besides leaning into the tugging of her arm made the whole process less painful.

"Au revoir, Marius!" Éponine called behind her hoping her facial expression would be enough to signal her thankfulness. Marius just stared in bewilderment giving only a small confused wave as he got smaller and smaller in Éponine's eyeline as she was dragged away by her father. Until he disappeared from sight. 

******

Enjolras had been pacing about his apartment for what felt like hours. He needed to be sure that he was making the right decision before he took any action. For he knew once his insane plan had begun there would be no stopping it. He would have to follow through. 

Enjorlas felt he had no other option however and he took one final remorseful breath before seating himself at his writing desk and crafting the letter that would seal his fate. 

Enjolras had no issue sacrificing himself to his cause however he had never considered such a drastic action necessary for revolution. However when he swore his fidelity to France's liberty he knew that included doing anything and everything necessary. And now he was called upon perhaps by God, perhaps by France herself. Whatever it was, he knew he must accept his fate. 

After completing the letter he set out to L'Café Musain to mail it. Grantaire was there, sober for once, perhaps Enjolras had made it just before his morning drink had taken hold. 

"Enjolras, join me! I suppose you are in need of a drink after last night! Barmai–" Enjolras cut Grantaire off. 

"You ought to suppose nothing about me Grantaire! Haven't you learned that? And what could you possibly know about last night?" Enjolras let out his temper on the now stammering lad for merely bringing the sensitive topic up. 

"I- I- I- know far too much about you Enjolras. Haven't you learned that? I know that you can't admit the fact that I was right. Marius would let you down again like he usually does. And now you're fucked on funding and probably in massive debt. You're not the only one who notices things, and I don't even need to be sober to do it, like you." Grantaire snapped back at Enjolras with a venom that Enjolras had yet to experience before at Grantaire's lips. Usually, any insult he delivered him was drenched in honey and gentle teasing, but this mild and neutral statement wrapped in such toxicity cut Enjolras far deeper. "Speaking of which... Barmaid!" Grantaire called out once again. Only to receive no response. 

"Can you stay sober past 1300 hours ever?" Enjorlas asked ignoring anything critical but correct Grantaire had said to him, only for his pride's sake. 

"Perhaps if I were sleeping," Grantaire responded annoyed at Enjolras' constant nagging and deflection. "Anyways you've been partaking far more now, why would stop just when my new drinking buddy has joined me?" Grantaire stood up, attempting to wrestle Enjorlas hoping to ease the tension, Enjolras oblige him in easing the tension but wrestled himself away laughing with Grantaire like small children play fighting. 

"Oh stop that you fool!" Enjolras said slapping him gently but firmly in a trite attempt to defend himself. "I am here for more important business than to indulge your drinking fantasies."

"I should say so! What's this letter you seem so intent from keeping out of my hands? A letter to another faction? A plot for the murder of a rich man to steal his fortune? A request to Napoleon himself for weapons funding?" Grantaire let his mind run wild with the opportunities he might take had he been in Enjolras' position. 

"No." Enjolras laughed. And then his face quickly turned very sullen.

"It–It's a letter to my father," Enjolras said less than confident a deep sadness filled his ocean blue eyes and his voice became heavy as if the pressure of his position had finally taken its full weight upon it.

"Your father? Enjolras whatever for? You said yourself he hates the cause and you can't ask him for any more money until–until... " Grantaire's voice trailed off and his face filled with horrified shock as his revelation came to him mid-sentence.

Enjolras acknowledged his friend's eyes filled with empathy and terror for him and could only sigh defeatedly. 

"I know." Enjolras croaked uncharacteristically meek. 

"You didn't!" Grantaire gasped.

"I had to. I told him that I am engaged to be married."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Next chapter will have guaranteed enjionine interaction so I hope y'all don't hate me for this chapter lol! Also have started writing it tonight and I am ahead of schedule so I hope to post that by Monday, but hopefully by Sunday!


End file.
